


The Breaking Point

by she_elf4



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_elf4/pseuds/she_elf4
Summary: Everyone assumes Batman will reach his breaking point in battle, fighting just one too many enemies. But instead, it happens in dark hallways and overheard conversations. Will anyone be there to pick up the pieces?





	The Breaking Point

Gotham's most famous son slowly walked down the street, not looking anyone in the eye as he passed. He was careful to keep his face shadowed under his hat. He walked as a man condemned; he dragged his feet as much as he could, but knew he had no choice but to keep going. As he passed through Gotham Park, a scene he'd witnessed not an hour ago flashed through his mind.

"Somehow, everything was easier when he was still missing," Tim had said. He'd stopped dead in his tracks like a deer in the headlights. He himself had been the only one missing lately.

"He does cause quite a lot of the trouble in this family with his standoffish habits, but you know he doesn't mean to," Alfred had replied.

"I know, and I feel kind of shitty for thinking this, but sometimes it's easier to love him when he's not here and I don't have to deal with all the crap." He hadn't stayed to hear any more of the conversation.

He was now halfway across town, right on the verge of the poor side. He'd reach the Narrows soon. He saw a cardboard blue bird in a cracked shop window, which made him think of his eldest. His eldest was doing wonderfully for himself. His eldest even took care of the youngest of their family while he was missing. He had every reason to be proud of his boys. He just wished he could stop making such horrible mistakes. He hadn't realized just how badly he'd done until he'd overheard the two boys talking the other day.

"Why can't you come back to the manor? You stayed the entire time he was gone," Damian had demanded.

"I just have a lot of things going on there right now. I promise I'll keep visiting, though," Dick had promised.

"Find someone else to do it. We worked better together. He's a stubborn ass and he doesn't trust me. It was better when he was gone," the younger snapped.

"If it really means that much to you, I suppose I could ask him if he'd let you live with me instead," his eldest had replied. He'd left at that point.   
It wasn't that he didn't try to get closer to his youngest son. But part of him was still a little nervous around the boy. He'd done his best to hide that, since he knew it wasn't the boy's fault. But the boy was so much like her. Every time the boy scowled and made a sarcastic remark, every time the boy stalked into a room, every single time the boy got a superior look, he'd be reminded of her and how helpless he'd been to stop her. And now, both the youngest and the eldest were done with him. He wished he could have done better.

He was finally reaching crime alley. He looked up and saw a flash of red. Red was his second eldest son's favorite color. If anyone was the middle child, his second eldest was. He'd lost count of how many times the middle child had shot at him. 

Just this last time, Jason had shouted, "This is your fault! Everyone that touches your life ends up becoming a monster! God help the next soul you come across!" He'd been afraid that this was true for a long time, but he'd always assumed it was just a reflection of his depression. But hearing his middle child say it, he realized he'd been right in the first place. He'd dragged his entire family down to the ground. He only hoped it wasn't too late to fix things.

He reached an old lamp post outside a derelict movie theatre. This place was famous for death, for ends. He figured seeking his own end would be fitting in this place. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, he thought. Bruce Wayne took out one of Red Hood's guns and pointed it at his own temple.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been knocking around my head for a while. I was feeling down today, and it finally came out on paper (proverbially speaking). I know I really want to write a second chapter where someone REALLY unexpected comes and stops Bruce, but I can't decide who I want it to be. Harley Quinn on run from the Joker? A mostly-reformed Penguin in a moment of pity? Simon Trent on his way home from an audition? Maybe even Jason, in a rare moment of clarity? I'm up for suggestions, but it won't be Joker.


End file.
